


Whistle

by michabris (sinamour)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 22:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4496817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinamour/pseuds/michabris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryouta watches Tetsuya. Tetsuya watches Nigou.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whistle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ptw30](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ptw30/gifts).



> Character death. Super short drabble inspired by http://www.wired.com/2015/07/activity-trackers-watching-your-dog-die/. Dedicating this to ptw30 who’s been inspiring me to write.

Tetsuya is laid down beside Nigou, quiet and subdued, bitten-raw lips drawn into an upturned curve that tucked a sob or two into the corners of it; and Ryouta lingers a desolate distance away from the threshold of their bedroom door. He watches as his husband runs gentle fingers through gray fur, always stopping and shying away before they reach the little wet patch near his flank, clear liquid continuously leaking in a quiet stream.

The dog whines every once in a while, head shifting and snout nudging Tetsuya’s hand, and Ryouta recognises that gesture for what it is. Nigou’s greedy when it comes to Tetsuya’s affection, and they’ve both been extremely competitive when Nigou had been more energetic, but there’s been no accusing barks and “Nigou, that’s not fair!” for three months already.

Ryouta sighs and leans back, shoulders markedly slumped, and strokes the edge of his phone in a regretful move before picking it up to rend his heart out.

On-screen, there is a cheerful blinking of lights that jives completely incongruously with the heavy dimness of their home, connected to the little coin-sized canine fitness tracker that hangs around Nigou’s neck. There are numbers – extremely optimistic numbers – that stare Ryouta in the face.

It beeps once, twice, thrice – and tells him that “Nigou hit his goal!” because their resident canine’s clocked in an average of 65 hours of activity each day, surpassing their set goal of 58 hours –

– tells him that Nigou’s been eating healthily, at an optimal 700 gramme to one kilogramme of soft poultry and chicken meat –

– tells him that Nigou’s slept 6 hours, lesser than he should, but no problem –

But it doesn’t tell him about the dulling light in blue eyes –

– doesn’t tell him about the painful limp that mars Nigou’s confident gait even as he tries to frisk and cajol Tetsuya into a game of cops-and-robbers –

– doesn’t tell him – so many things that it’s so irritatingly stupid

“Tetsuya-san,” Ryouta whispers, and slides to the floor to hide his eyes between his knees because Tetsuya has crawled up to fold his legs and put Nigou’s head on his lap, nuzzling the top of the dog’s head.

He can’t filter the quiet hum of Nigou’s favourite song, though – a slow ba da dum hmm hm hmmm

And tears leak out of the corner of his eyes anyway.

Ah.

What a long, heartbreaking little instant – waiting for the seconds to tick away, for every breath to stop. 


End file.
